


Wait for It

by infinisei



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Everything Gone Wrong, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Season 4 Spoilers, So much angst, The Framework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinisei/pseuds/infinisei
Summary: The aftermath of the Framework.





	Wait for It

**Author's Note:**

> So, this horrible idea came to me as I've watched AoS season 4 (my god, what a season). My heart breaks for Fitzsimmons right now, but because I'm such a sucker for angst, I wondered what would happen it I took it a little further. This is dark as hell, so if it isn't your cup of tea, turn away now.
> 
> If anyone ever wants to talk to me about AoS, come see me on Tumblr at infinisei!!!
> 
> This is unbeta'ed and any mistakes are mine. Please let me know if you spot any! Also, there are quotations from Agents of SHIELD that I do not own. Credit to where credit is due.

It had been six hours since he had woken up.

 

There was a lull between the time when a person was released from the Framework and when they finally woke up in the real world. Fitz would have made the hypothesis that the amount of time in limbo was correlated to the amount of time trapped in the Framework. Daisy was already awake when he finally opened his eyes, Coulson bolted upright within a minute after him, and Mack was up the minute after that. May took much longer, a full half an hour since they were released.

 

He would have made the hypothesis that limbo time was correlated to the Framework time, if it weren’t for Jemma.

 

Even since he gained clarity, the tsunami of emotions that followed almost drowned him. So many ghosts demanded his attention, and the strain on his mind was threatening to drive him around the bend.

 

_It wasn’t you, Fitz. It was their world’s version of you._

 

_And in a hard world, we cannot afford the luxury of sympathy._

 

_You see what we’re up against? They mean to destroy us._

 

_We don’t buckle to guilt, womanly sentiment._

 

_I love you. They’re trying to take you away from me._

 

_You are protecting the human race._

 

“Fitz, _no_!”

 

There was a single thing keeping him sane. _Jemma._

 

It had been six hours since he had woken up, and Jemma was still unconscious.

 

At first, he managed to convince himself that she just needed a little more time. The Framework had shaken them all in the worst ways possible, and the open wounds still ached and weeping blood. Fitz would not judge her for a little extra moments of oblivion.

 

But when May was back and Jemma still showed no signs of stirring, a sickening sense in his stomach unfurled.

 

_I’m tired to seeing our friends ripped apart. That can’t happen to us again. I won’t let it._

 

“Fitz.”

 

Fitz barely acknowledged Daisy. Every single one of their friends had visited one time or another (except for May, who would be bedridden for days until she regained her strength) to check in on them both. Coulson and Mack had tried to get him to take a break, to eat and get checked to be sure there weren’t any lasting effects from being in the Framework. He flatly refused them both. He wouldn’t be leaving Jemma’s bedside until she was by his side. No one would convince him otherwise, and Daisy wouldn’t get a different response if she were here for the same thing.

 

“How are you feeling?” Daisy asked softly, taking a seat next to him.

 

“Fine,” he muttered hoarsely. He kept his grip on Jemma’s hand tight.

 

She laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine,” she assured him. “You know how tough she is. She’ll be up and fussing over everyone in no time.”

 

“Yeah,” he said.

 

“I also wanted to let you know that the Book has been thrown into the sun by Stark himself. Coulson oversaw the whole thing. It can’t hurt anyone anymore. And AIDA—”

 

“ _Don’t say her name_.”

 

Daisy’s mouth snapped shut, and the look of understanding that flickered on her face made him want to scream and grasp the head of that fucking android and tear it from her body, one circuit at a time—

 

_You’d really do anything for me, wouldn’t you?_

 

“ _It_ was disassembled and broken into little tiny pieces, then blasted to smithereens with that old 0-8-4 alien blaster.” There was a note of satisfaction in her voice. Fitz couldn’t blame her, almost feeling disappointed that he hadn’t been able to see it, do it himself—

 

He shut down that train of thought, scrubbing his face with his hand. Voices clawed at his brain. _Monster…_ “That—That’s good.” He cleared his throat.

 

“Yeah, Talbot’s all over Coulson’s ass after he gave him their report. He wants someone to hang for everything that happened, especially,” she swallowed, “especially Mace. So of course Radcliffe isn’t alive to be thrown to the wolves. He’s also pushing to get the Framework dismantled—”

 

“ _Like hell_.” If they dismantled it, then Jemma would be lost in whatever limbo she was in without a way to get out. _They couldn’t shut it down over Fitz’s dead body would they_ … A haze fell over his eyes.

 

“Relax, Fitz. Coulson won’t let that happen. None of us would,” she said fiercely. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you would come to medical with me.”

 

“I want to see the footage after the Krasnoyarsk Krai mission.”

 

“What—” Daisy gaped at him. “Fitz, is that a good idea?”

 

“I need to see it,” he said. A level of steel entered his voice, the same one that he had used to order hundreds of Inhumans and innocents to the slaughter. The same one he had used on Daisy to interrogate her.

 

At that thought, he flinched violently, her screams drowning out all over sound.

 

It appeared that she had the same thought. She paled slightly.

 

Stammering through his regret and horror, he said, “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to—”

 

“It’s okay, Fitz.” She stood. “I’ll get you the footage. Just… just take care of yourself, okay? For Jemma’s sake.” Then, she was gone.

 

 _Take care of yourself_ , he repeated in misery. Like he deserved that.

 

For Jemma, though. For Jemma, he’d do anything. With all of the mess that SHIELD was still trying to recover from, the only thing keeping him sane was the woman lying in front of him.

 

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. _Please wake up, Jemma,_ he prayed to her. _Please._

 

~~~

 

“We’ve run into a couple setbacks.”

 

“Setbacks?” Fitz asked sharply. “What do you mean?”

 

“Turns out Ivanov was less of an obedient guard dog than AIDA wanted. He’s in the wind and still has control over the Watchdogs.”

 

Fitz, back aching from being hunched over for so long, ran a hand through his hair in frustration. It was now nearing eight hours with Jemma in limbo. Doctors were starting to get genuinely concerned, and now, with the image of his LMD deceiving Jemma into experiencing one of the most horrific encounters he could have imagined, Coulson was telling him that a loose end was still out there.

 

“Daisy tracking him?”

 

“As we speak,” Coulson replied, “but Talbot and I are concerned about what he’s going to do. He’s become the exact thing he wanted to destroy and the Director of SHIELD has been killed, so it’s hard to predict what he’ll make the Watchdogs do when they don’t know that their top dog is a remote-controlled LMD.” He paused. “We still have the remains of Mace and Mack’s LMDs. We could use some help analyzing them for a clue on where he is.”

 

“Coulson, I can’t… Jemma…”

 

“Fitz,” Coulson had that Director voice for the first time in months. “I know you want to be there for Jemma. We all do. But in order to make sure that Jemma, us, the _world_ is safe, we have to tie up every single loose end Radcliffe and AIDA unraveled. There is no guaranteeing any of our safety and the death of these LMDs for good otherwise.”

 

“I know,” he bit out. Of course he knew. But everything within him protested at the very thought of leaving her bedside.

 

At the same time, though, he knew Coulson was right. His mistakes had paid the path to this whole sodding mess, and doing this would be a start to repaying for all the hell he had wrought while simultaneously protecting Jemma. He had to do it, even if it meant leaving her for a moment.

 

Shoulders slumped in defeat, he moved to stand. “I’ll take a look at them—”

 

Shrill alarms cut him off and Fitz wildly looked to the monitors. Instead of oscillating, the line was unwaveringly flat.

 

_Oh God, no._

 

“ _Jemma!_ ”

 

He moved before he had even formed the thought. He grasped her face tightly, as if he could hold her there if he just held on tight enough.

 

“We need a doctor here _now_!” Fitz heard Coulson shouting distinctly.

 

Hands pushed at him, trying to tear him away. He resisted, before an arm like steel wrapped around his waist and hauled him back. He clawed at it, snarling and spewing vitriol like a wolf restrained.

 

Doctors now circled her, spouting out words that echoed unrecognizably. Someone was speaking to him too, but he ignored them, too focused on what was happening on that medical table.

 

“Clear!” was the first word that broke through the incessant ringing. Jemma spasmed from the shock, but beyond that, didn’t stir. The knell continued, and it began to pierce him with each heartbeat he took.

 

“Clear!” In this one moment, he couldn’t help but think of the first time he met Jemma Simmons.

 

“Clear!” They had both been so young. The world had been at their fingertips, and they remained eager to push the boundaries of what they knew, more so than any other students. It had isolated them and pushed them together at the same time. She had seen something in him that he had wished his father had seen in him when he was younger, and loved him unwaveringly as a friend for so long.

 

“Clear!” He could never have imagined how intertwined every part of him would become with her. She had been his anchor, the one thing that had pushed him and refused to let him give up, even when he was rehabbing after his brain injury. Falling in love with her had been as easy as falling asleep on the grass in the middle of spring.

 

“Clear!” They had struggled through everything, and had still come out of it together. At every moment he had thought of the future, he had pictured her there. The ring box hidden in his shaving kit was going to be his way of ensuring that it would happen.

 

All those dreams were crumbling in front of his eyes.

 

The ringing cut off and Fitz blinked disorientingly, trying to properly unravel his senses. The doctors were still moving, but they no longer paid attention to Jemma. In fact, one of the nurses was packing the defibrillator.

 

“What are you doing?” They looked at him not only in confusion, but also in sympathy. “Keep on going! You have to save her!” His voice cracked with anger and something else.

 

Breaking away from Mack’s arm—Mack, it was Mack who had pulled him away—he snatched the defibrillator cart from the nurse and set it back. He moved frantically, because timing was everything now, if he was to revive her before her brain suffocated from lack of oxygen.

 

He didn’t bother warning anyone; it was a waste of time and energy. She remained silent, her eyes closed.

 

“Come on, Jemma.” His broken plea came out then. Or maybe he had been saying it this entire time. “Jemma, wake up. You can’t leave. Stay with me, please. I need you here with me…”

 

He kept on going, through it all, the blurriness of looking through tears, and people trying to nudge him away from her. Too soon, though, he was feeling a pinch in his neck and the world began fading at the edges. He didn’t even feel himself fall.

 

 _Jemma_.

 

~~~

 

“C’mon, Fitz, you need to get up.”

 

Something nudged at his face.

 

He stirred reluctantly, his body the most relaxed and comfortable it had been in a while. Sleep pulled at him, and he found no reason not to stay where he was.

 

A giggle above him, then hands were in his hair, cupping his cheeks. “Fitz, you can’t sleep in today! I have that meeting at 11 and I can’t be late, and you’re meeting up with Mack in an hour. I have breakfast ready. Up!”

 

He groaned, but peeled his eyes open. Above him, Jemma smiled softly at him, fully dressed in black slacks and a blue blouse that made her eyes shine. She looked radiant, and Fitz’s heart tugged at the sight.

 

She kissed him softly. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

 

“Morning,” he said with a small, sleepy grin. He stretched on the couch. “We slept through the movie.”

 

“We did,” Jemma helped him up, “but we can resume it tonight. It’ll be the weekend, after all.”

 

He hummed. “We can go to that Indian place you’ve been hankering after too.”

 

She sighed. “Oh, that sounds lovely. We can go just after work and pick up food before coming back, popping in the film. A relaxing evening…”

 

He accepted the plate of food with a murmured thanks and joined her at the breakfast nook. He admired the way the sunlight played off her features with the view of the city in the background.

 

It struck him suddenly, how much he loves her. Her beauty, her strength, her goodness, had transfixed him since the moment he met her, and he can’t imagine it ever dissipating.

 

She smiled self-consciously. “What?”

 

“Nuthin’.” He scraped his plate clean. “Just thinking.”

 

“Okay, well, I’d love to stay and talk about your ‘nothing,’ but I’ve got to go or I really will be late.” She drained her cup of tea and moved to stand up.

 

A bolt of fear punched him in the gut. He grasped her hand, stopping her. “Stay.”

 

Her lips quirked. “Fitz…”

 

“No, come on,” he wheedled. He tugged her closer. “Let’s make it an all-day event. Nobody needs us at work right now. I can cancel with Mack. We can call in sick, fudge on the couch some more. You could read that book you’ve had on your nightstand for weeks and we’ll finish the film. A day with just us.”

 

She laced her fingers behind his neck. “You know that I’m going to have to leave eventually,” she points out gently.

 

He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Stay. Please.”

 

“I’ll always be here for you,” she promised him.

 

He looked at her straight in the eye. “I love you. You know that, right?”

 

“Of course I do, Fitz.” She kissed him her reassurance. “I love you too. Always.”

 

~~~

 

When he woke again, the first thing he noted was the stickiness in his throat. He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking around.

 

He started to get up, but his wrists refused to move. Confused, his gaze fell down to his hands, where they were restrained to the hospital bed. _What the hell?_ His eyes continued down to his feet, which were strapped down at the ankles too.

 

He twisted experimentally, testing the strength of the binds. They held fast. Panicking now, he struggled harder, especially at the sound of approaching footsteps. They paused abruptly.

 

“Fitz!”

 

He froze in surprise. “Daisy? What’s going on?”

 

She sat at his hip. “How are you feeling? What do you remember?”

 

“What do you mean? Where’s Jemma?”

 

Her face crumpled in pain. A kind of fearful dread overtaking him, he started again. “Daisy—”

 

She exhaled shakily. Now that he was looking, he could spot the red, puffy eyes and her hunched position. She looked like she would rather be anywhere but here. “I don’t want to be the one to tell you. Please remember.”

 

And then suddenly it came back with painful clarity.

 

Instantly, he wanted to go back to sleep, to oblivion, because anything would be better than having to face even a second without Jemma Simmons.

 

“You woke up a few times before this,” Daisy informed him. “Baffled the docs each time too, since the dosage they gave you guaranteed you’d be out.” Her voice lowered. “You kept on asking to see her, and weren’t listening to the nurses. Hence, the restraints, which I will tell you are the second set after you broke out of the first one.”

 

It didn't take a genius to translate that. _You woke up begging for Jemma, screaming and shouting, and they had been forced to subdue you, putting you in cuffs and sedating you. Still, in your drug-induced stupor driven by grief, you had found the strength to break free and go searching for her, only to be stopped for good that time._

 

It was almost funny, how little he remembered. There had simply been a gaping emptiness that he had been trying to fill, and he knew that if he didn’t find it, then he would surely suffocate from it.

 

_Jemma! Jemma, where are you?_

 

“Ivanov,” his voice was coarse. “The Watchdogs. Are they still active?”

 

Surprise colored her voice. “Yes, we haven’t found them yet. Coulson has agents on it.”

 

“Have them reassigned. You and I will be taking it.”

 

“You and I? Fitz, now isn’t the time—”

 

“THEY TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME!” he roared suddenly, unable to keep it in. She jumped in alarm. “THEY GAVE RADCLIFFE AND AIDA THE MEANS TO KILL HER, AND I WILL NOT REST UNTIL I BURY THEM ALL TO THE GROUND, BEGGING FOR MERCY.”

 

“I get that you want revenge, Fitz, but this isn’t the way. It’s not SHIELD’s way.”

 

He snorted in broken mirth. “If you think I’m going to let protocol or laws get in the way of this, then you don’t know me at all.”

 

“Then don’t think about the rules, think about what’s right. Jemma wouldn’t want—”

 

“ _Jemma’s_ _dead_.” They both sucked in a halting breath at his words. “All that matters is making sure those who were involved in it pay in blood. But,” he paused, “but I don’t want any more innocent bloodshed. She wouldn’t want that kind of blood on her name. So you’ll join me on this, make sure I don’t go too far, and you and the rest of the team will bury me next to her when someone kills me for it or I finish it.”

 

It wasn’t that hard to understand his implication. Tears sprung into the corners of her eyes. She didn’t seem to know what to say.

 

He stared at the raw, bleeding strips of his skin visible at the edge of the buckle on his wrists. He didn’t feel any pain. “The Framework taught me one thing, Daisy. I’m not a good person. Deep inside me, the Doctor is waiting, cold and cruel and ready to come out. Since waking up, I warred against it, trying so hard to bury it where it could never surface. But now, it doesn't matter anymore.” It had ceased to matter as soon as all beauty and hope started disintegrating in front of his eyes.

 

”I’m gonna use it to hunt down those who took the love of my life from me, die trying, or rest permanently after succeeding. Either way, SHIELD won’t have to deal with taking me out. I’ll do it with or without you, Daisy, but with you, you and SHIELD will have the reassurance of minimal collateral damage.”

 

She stared at him, tears leaking down her face. After a pause, she let out a broken, “Okay.”

 

With something that almost felt like relief, he began to plot. It was calming, in a way, to know where his future was headed. He would fight, rain down hell’s wrath upon those who had wronged Jemma. Then when it was all over, he would lay down to rest, knowing that, regardless of whether there was an afterlife or not, that he would be joining her soon.

 

He remembered to request that his engagement ring be buried with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
